


A Cadenza of Flowers

by flightlesswish



Category: EXO (Band), Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Attempt at Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Violins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlesswish/pseuds/flightlesswish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is a repost from my LJ account.</p><p>Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story. I write fiction not reality.  Hetalia characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Cadenza of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a repost from my LJ account.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story. I write fiction not reality. Hetalia characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

 

 

The audience breaks into a chorus of thunderous applause as Lu Han bows that last note on the string of his violin. The vibrato ends beautifully to his own personal satisfaction and he can’t help but smile to himself as he takes a deep breath, puts his violin off his chin, and gets a full view of the audience.

It’s always breathtaking, the view. Of people in different colors and voices melding into one, all singing praises to him. He never wants it to end, to be honest, but of course at the end of the day he has to take his bow and the curtain has to be closed, leaving him with only his erratic heartbeats and the warm feeling of adrenaline and blood rushing through his veins.

Lu Han gets back to the backstage quietly, nodding and bowing politely to the staffs and colleagues. He settles his precious violin down in its case in his waiting room and takes a look at the bouquets of flowers addressed to him. A crowd of yellow flowers tied as one in a beautiful bouquet immediately steals his attention in among a variant of red, pink, and white roses; a small, baby blue envelope with a matching colored card inside attached conveniently on the paper wrapper.

Lu Han smiles to himself as he takes the cheerful-looking bouquet. He opens the envelope carefully, afraid of him accidentally tearing the fragile paper, takes out the card inside and begins reading the words written in a neat writing. It is the nth bouquet; Lu Han doesn’t remember exactly when he first started getting the sunflowers bouquets at the end of his performances. Maybe it’s a year or so ago and although he may not remember the date, he _does_ remember the words written on the card.

The first were a neat and simple _dear apollo_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day Lu Han first talks to Sehun is just another day at school.

The weather is nice outside, as nice as the spring weather can get. Lu Han has been nursing a headache from school and other stuffs lately, and one of the things he’d like to do the most right now is just to sit down and enjoy the cool, calming spring breeze. Now that he thinks about it, when was the last time he let himself relax? It must have been quite a while ago, since he cannot recall and what he _does_ recall is that he has a scheduled violin practice after school. It’s just like any other day, really, but today — after a long, _long_ time, he doesn’t feel like doing it. Slacking off a day wouldn’t cost him much, would it?

After pondering for a while, he finally decides to come up to the school’s rooftop after school instead of straightly going home. No one really goes there except for the cleaning service people, as far as he knows, for most of the students prefer to either go home or attend to their club activities after school. A perfect place for quick getaway, he supposes. He has been getting headaches nowadays. Sometimes they are so persistent that Lu Han has to stop anything he’s doing and simply sits down until the pain disappears. With that in mind, he makes a mental note to go see a doctor to talk about it. A competition is coming up and he can’t afford being attacked by those random headaches for he’s sure it _will_ interfere his carefully-scheduled practice and potentially ruin his chance coming first in the competition.

The rooftop is empty when he gets there and he secretly feels relieved by that. He doesn’t really want to meet or talk to anyone right now. He needs some time alone, simply doing nothing. He takes a seat on a bench near the railing, drops his backpack aside, and looks up. The sky is already a bit darker shade of orange, clouds floating freely, warm sunlight friendly enough for his eyes to look up without squinting. He takes a deep breath. The air is nice up here. Maybe he should come here more often.

After a moment he gets to his feet and walks towards the chest-high railing. He wryly thinks he can easily jump off from here if he wants to. Maybe the school has never thought someone would actually do it and never bothered to raise the bar higher. Sighing, he lets his gaze fall to the ground.

There are some students below, chattering away as they walk towards the entrance gate to go home. Some may be going to dates or simply hang out with their friends. Out of the blue, he feels a pang of jealousy well up in his chest. He doesn’t really have any friends at school, save for some of the guys from the school’s music club which he’s a member of. It’s not that he’s anti-social, God _no_ , he’d like to think that he’s social enough. Not more not less, just _enough_. It’s just that no one really _tries_ to get to know him well because of who he is and at time like this he can’t help but feeling lonely.

He wonders that maybe people that had jumped off of buildings didn’t actually _want_ to jump at first. Maybe it’s the thoughts that came to them when they’re standing on the edge like this, just like him now, the feeling of loneliness and helplessness engulfing them and fogging their minds; and then in that split second they decided to go with a _bang_. Jumping off of a building guarantees at least one section in the newspaper the next day and plus you _do_ get to try to defy gravity before you inevitably hit the ground. Lu Han starts to think maybe it’s not so bad after all. He’s always wanted to try to fly — well, don’t we all? It’s always been one of human’s greatest desires, to fly. And if _he_ jumps right now, it would be no doubt that people are going to talk about it for a long while. He _is_ Lu Han after all. Maybe if he just leans closer and reaches out his hand a little bit —

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Wha— ?”

The next thing Lu Han knows, he’s being pulled back by something — some _one_ — and nearly loses his balance.

“Were you going to jump off? Are you out of your mind?!”

Lu Han blinks and a taller guy in the uniform identical to his fills his vision, a backpack slung on one shoulder. He stares at the guy, puzzled. “I wasn’t going to jump,” he mutters after he’s overcame the initial shock and lets his gaze falls on his wrist. “Now if you would kindly release my hand, that’d be wonderful.”

The guy doesn’t look convinced but releases Lu Han’s wrist anyway, a frown making its way on the taller’s face. “What were you doing?” He demands.

Lu Han shrugs, trying to look and sound nonchalant. “I just wanted to get a clearer view of the ground.”

A pause. “That’s weird,” the guy says finally and when Lu Han says nothing in response, he elaborates: “Most people usually want to get a clearer view of the sky, not the ground.”

“Well, I guess I’m not most people.” Lu Han says simply, feeling a little bit upset, and walks back to the vacant bench and sits. He aims his gaze at the sky, hoping that the guy will get the message that he doesn’t want to talk to the other and just leave him alone, but instead the guy goes on sitting beside him, putting his backpack aside, and stares at him. Lu Han can feel his cheeks burn but wills himself to not look back at the other male. After a full minute, as if something important has finally dawned on him, the guy says, “You’re Lu Han.”

Lu Han averts his gaze to him. “Excuse me?”

The guy is wearing an expression Lu Han cannot decipher, eyes still fixed on him, and says the next words with a neutral tone. “You’re Lu Han. The violinist.”

“Well, yes...” Lu Han trails off. “That’s me.”

The guy whistles and, to Lu Han’s surprise, smiles sheepishly. He has a nice smile. “I guess I was wrong about you wanting to jump off, sorry about that.”

Lu Han arches an eyebrow. “You guess?”

“Well you’re _Lu Han_. Why would you want to, you know, jump off.” The guy shrugs and shifts his gaze to the sky.

Lu Han knits his eyebrows and actually takes a good look on the other this time. He looks quite familiar, now that Lu Han properly sees him. His hair is jet-black in color, not entirely disheveled but not something Lu Han would say neat either. He has a lean figure and his skin is rather pale. The guy is, by Lu Han’s standard, attractively handsome. He mentally scolds himself and shakes the thought away. He blinks. “You’re Oh Sehun,” Lu Han realizes out loud. “The school’s star track runner…” He trails off, suddenly feeling hesitant. “Aren’t you?”

The guy chuckles, eyes not tearing away from the sky. “You know me.” Sehun says, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Who doesn’t,” Lu Han blurts out and quickly shuts his mouth when Sehun looks at him questioningly. Lu Han clears his throat. “Anyway yes, I do know you, although I believe it’s the first time we’re talking to each other.”

Sehun gives him a toothy smile and casually extends his hand. “Oh Sehun, just the school’s ordinary track runner. You said I was a _star_ track runner and if you put it that way I should’ve called you the _galactic_ violinist,” he grins. “Nice to be finally talking to you, Lu Han.”

Lu Han blushes. “Lu Han,” he simply mutters, shaking Sehun’s hand hesitantly and pulls his own away shortly. “What are you doing here?”

“I come here often, to relax and stuff.” He shrugs and eyes Lu Han curiously. “It’s the first time I ever see anyone else up here at this hour, though… The others usually rush home or enganged in club activites. What are you doing here anyway? Simply planning to enjoy watching the ground by yourself?” He asks, a teasing tone in his voice. “I didn’t know the ground... _fascinates_ you that much.”

Lu Han feels his cheeks burn. “Oh, shut up.”

Sehun flashes him an amused smile. “It’s cool, really. I think watching the sky is just too mainstream these days — I swear it’s in every _manga_ I see Kyungsoo reads. I mean, surely the ground wants the attention too once in a while, don’t you think? Not every day, just once in a while. I bet it’s very lonely, being stepped on everyday with no one actually paying some attention to it. Where’s our respect, seriously. We’re supposed to be, like, civilized and stuff, aren’t we?”

Lu Han blinks. _What?_ “Um,” he decides to say after the initial daze of realizing that the guy he’s just met had just talked to him about the _ground_ deserving some _attention_. And _respect_. “You think the _ground_ deserves some attention. And respect?” He tries to confirm.

Sehun smiles, his eyes shaping a pair of crescent moons. “Yeah! Don’t you think so, too?” He says cheerfully as he reaches for his backpack and starts rummaging into it.   

“Um, yeah.” Lu Han shrugs, eyes watching the other male with interest. “Sure. I guess.”

Sehun produces two small cartons of strawberry milk from inside his backpack soon after and offers Lu Han one. “Top grade strawberry milk with 8gr fat, very delicious _and_ healthy!” He says eagerly, his eyes encouraging. Lu Han takes the small carton tentatively and mumbles his thanks. He takes a glance at what’s written on the pink carton. Top grade strawberry milk with 8gr fat _is_ written on it. He smiles slightly, amused, before sticking the straw to sip the liquid demurely.

Sehun sips his own and lets out a contented sigh, as if he’s just drunk the most delicious thing in the world. He eventually shifts his focus across the bench. “One of these days I think I’d grace your ground view with myself running around, if you bother to come to look from the other side,” he points his chin to the part across from them. Below that part is the school’s sports field. “A competition’s coming up. I really need to start training immediately,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, his expression is as if he’s feeling guilty about something.

“Me too,” Lu Han says suddenly after a pause. Sehun raises his eyebrows. “I also have a competition coming up soon,” Lu Han explains. Sehun is about to open his mouth when Lu Han’s phone rings. It is, to Sehun’s amusement, TVXQ!’s latest single. Lu Han hurriedly fishes his phone out of his pants’ pocket and accepts the call without bothering to look at the caller’s, heat creeping under his cheeks. “He, hello?” He stutters and pointedly looks away from a grinning Sehun. Lu Han immediately switches to Chinese as soon he knows who the caller is.

Lu Han ends the call with a huff a minute later. He wordlessly picks up his bag and slings it over a shoulder, gets to his feet and turns back to Sehun. Sehun is staring at him with that unreadable expression again. It kind of makes Lu Han want to tugs the corners of the other’s lips upward so he can see Sehun’s smile again. Sehun really does have a nice smile. But of course, it’s their first meeting and it would be simply creepy and awkward for him to do so, so instead Lu Han says, “I have to go home now. Practice’s waiting,” he smiles, a little bit strained, because in all honesty he’d like to stay a little bit more. Sehun seems like a good person, albeit a little bit _weird_ for his standard (but then again he’s friends with _Yixing_ ), and he finds himself wanting to get know the other male better. Maybe they can even be friends at the end of their conversation.

“Off you go, then,” Sehun says, a small smile on his lips. “Good luck on your competition.”

Lu Han nods but doesn’t make any move to leave. He bites his lower lip, gaze on the ground. He wants to say something, _anything_ , perhaps a _I’ll see you again?_ or maybe _it’s actually nice to be talking to you, can we be friends?_ Screw it, a simple _thank you_ or _bye_ would do. He really wants to see and talk to Sehun again, but he doesn’t want to sound too hopeful (he’s not that _desperate_ , mind you), and it’s been awhile since he has made any friends —

“I’ll see you again?”

Lu Han looks up and finds Sehun smiling warmly at him. It sounds hopeful to Lu Han’s ears, but most likely it’s just his own wistful thinking. Lu Han clears his throat. “Yes. Of course.” He finally manages to mutter and nods awkwardly to the other male before turning on his heels to leave.

When he’s sure Sehun can’t see him anymore, he runs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lu Han is an eighteen year-old international champion violinist. He has been playing the bowed instrument since he was four and won his first competition at the age of eight. It started off as his mother’s obsession on violin playing, which she didn’t manage to do in her youth. She sent Lu Han to violin classes as soon as he’s allowed to and turns out Lu Han is good at it, well _more_ than good, and he came to love the instrument after the earlier struggles of how to hold the violin and the bow properly, how to produce the right notes, etcetera. It takes time and dedication, and Lu Han is more than willing to give it.

His family decided to move to Seoul when he was in the middle school to expand his father’s business. Moving to another country doesn’t stop him to continue playing and entering competitions. He has more wins than loses and since the age of fifteen he’s been honored to be a guest player at the renowned Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra quite a few times. He’s now a celebrated violinist in the country and in his own homeland. He has earned a generous amount of fortune over the years and although he’s no pop star, he is adored by many. At the age of eighteen, Lu Han has more than everything he has ever dreamt of.

Sehun is, as far as Lu Han knows, a national champion track runner. Sehun is in the same year as him but belongs to a different class, despite him being a year younger than Lu Han. Rumor has it that he’s going to represent the country in the next Olympics, so although Lu Han may not know about sports much, Sehun must be an excellent runner. Sehun is one of the popular kids at school and he _is_ good at being popular. He’s always friendly to everyone, his grades are good, he’s good at sports, he’s good looking — who can possibly hate him?

Unlike a particular violinist, Sehun has plenty of friends. He’s always seen hanging out with his mates, especially one particular guy named Kim Jongin — the school’s arguably best dancer. From what he’s heard, they’ve been close since childhood. Maybe that’s why seeing Sehun, of all people, alone on the rooftop that day is a kind of surprise. Sehun and loneliness simply don’t match.

It’s been two weeks since that fateful day on the rooftop. Lu Han hasn’t come up to the rooftop ever since. He has this complicated feeling of both wanting and not wanting to meet Sehun again at the same time, so he has decided to shake the feeling away before meeting the other boy again and he can’t say the fact that he can see the sports field where Sehun practices from the window in the music club’s room gives him any help on that matter.

When he’s not playing or the practice session is over, he finds himself unconsciously staring out the window and scans the sight to look for a glimpse of Sehun. Strangely, the sight of Sehun somehow makes the butterflies that he didn’t know exist in his stomach come into wake. It’s an alien feeling and he doesn’t know how to deal with that yet. Not knowing what to label the feeling makes him feel slightly uneasy.

From time to time, he can catch glimpses of Sehun: shirt drenched in sweat, sticking stubbornly on his flushed skin, wrapping his lean figure perfectly and ajar mouth gasping for oxygen — and Lu Han can’t help but think that even then Sehun is still attractive. He would stop and watch for a while, eyes fixed on Sehun and Sehun alone, until Sehun’s on his blindspot or someone is demanding his attention.

It is _not_ creepy at all, what are you even talking about.

Between his breaks, Lu Han would often catch Sehun gazing up towards the rooftop before running again. It’s odd, Lu Han thinks initially, as if he’s expecting someone… and then he remembers.

 _Sehun couldn’t possibly looking for_ him _, could he… ?_ He quickly shakes his head at the thought. That sounds ridiculous even to his own ears. They have only met once and barely hold a proper conversation, so there’s no way Sehun is looking for _him_.

Right?

Lu Han buries his face in his hands.

He needs to get a grip.

 

 

* * *

 

 

That particular day after school, his club mates have already gone home. There’s no sign of Sehun that day, just some random students that belong to the sports club playing around on the field.  

Lu Han has just finished going through a piece for his solo practice for the upcoming school’s orchestra performance when he hears someone clapping. He starts and quickly turns around towards the door, nearly dropping his violin (which he doesn’t, _thank God_ ; the violin has costed him quite amount of money), and finds Sehun clapping with mouth slightly ajar in awe, his eyes wide like a child in an amusement park.

Lu Han takes a sharp breath, clutching at his heart. _Calm down, stupid, it’s just Sehun_ , he mentally tells himself. He can feel his own heart beating fast. After a brief moment, Sehun has finished clapping and is now wearing a grin. Lu Han’s heart skips a beat and his next words come out breathless. “Wh— what are you doing here?”

Lu Han wonders if the color pink in Sehun’s cheeks is just his imagination. “Um, I, I was — ” the taller male stutters, as if only now remembering that he’s not supposed to be there. “I was just passing by and heard someone playing. I didn’t know it was you,” he says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head, gaze dropped on the floor.

Lu Han blinks. “O… kay,” he says quietly and before he can’t stop himself: “aren’t you supposed to be practicing at this hour?”

 _Shit_.

He can see Sehun looks up, widened eyes now on him. “You knew?”

Lu Han bites his lower lip and hesitates. After a moment, he motions to the window. “I, um, can see you from here.”

“Oh… right.” Sehun shifts his gaze to the window. A small smile, and he averts his gaze back on the violinist. “Well, not today. I have some other stuffs to do…” then, almost like an after thought: “You haven’t been coming to the rooftop.”

Lu Han’s mind wanders to his previous thought about Sehun looking for him and he can feel heat crawling under his cheeks. He shakes his head slightly, a sad smile on his lips. “No, I haven’t. I have to practice more now for the club’s orchestra performance this weekend and of course for that upcoming competition I’ve mentioned before…”

Sehun hums. “Um, okay then. I guess I’ll get going, don’t want to disturb you any longer,” he says sheepishly and turns to leave with a small wave.

“Wait!”

Sehun stops and turns around, eyebrows arched in question.

Lu Han fishes for something inside his back and holds it in his hand. He approaches the taller man shyly. “Are you free this weekend?”

Sehun looks surprised. “Why?”

“Will you come to our performance?” Lu Han asks, holding out a ticket that he’s fished out from his bag towards Sehun. “It’s a Tribute to Mozart night…”

Sehun simply stares at the ticket, expression unreadable. It dawns on Lu Han a moment later about the high probability of Sehun _not_ liking music, _classical_ music at that, and seriously who would spend their precious Saturday night watching and listening to something you don’t care about for two whole hours?

“We, well, I mean, if you don’t want to it’s okay, I completely understand, pop music is way more interesting anyway, right ha ha ha — “

“Lu Han.” Sehun says suddenly. Lu Han shuts his mouth. Sehun takes the ticket, his hand brushes with Lu Han’s in the process. Lu Han feels warmth tingling on his skin and when he looks up, Sehun’s smile is just as warm.

“I’d be glad to come,” Sehun beams. “Thank you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Despite Lu Han’s doubts, Sehun does come to watch the performance. The younger boy even waves at him when Lu Han and the rest of the club enter the stage. Lu Han gives him an awkward smile in return as an acknowledgement, and that’s when he notice a certain Kim Jongin sitting beside the boy. Jongin is wearing a thin, wry smile and Lu Han can easily say that he’s being dragged by Sehun to come out of his will.

The performance lasts for two whole hours. It ends with claps and whistles from the audience and while it’s not as grand as Lu Han normally receives, it still feels so _good_. He can see Sehun standing while he claps just before he leaves the stage. Lu Han gives him a smile and a nod before leaving, feeling satisfied.

Bouquets of flowers are already waiting for him in the waiting room, as usual, nearly covering the whole mirror. Some even on the edge to fall to the ground. He can’t help but notice the glaring difference between his spot and his other club mates’, but he knows that they’re used to it and don’t think it’s a big deal. He’s _Lu Han_ , after all. Half of the audience, if not most, probably came just to watch him perform. He wonders if his clubmates dislike him for stealing away the attention…

“Hey, golden boy.”

Lu Han pulls out from his thoughts and turns to see Zhang Yixing, the pianist and also his best friend, grinning smugly at him. “Yixing…”

“Great perf today! Look at the flowers,” Yixing whistles as he eyes the pile of flowers. “All reds and whites. You’d think they planned this or something except, of course, those beautiful sunflowers…”

Lu Han smiles slightly. “Girls, I guess.” He’s had a lot of fangirls and most of them give him red or white roses; sometimes pink. Notes will often come with the flowers, not so little of them about love confessions written in either Chinese, Korean, English, or a horrible mix of the three. It kind of baffles him at first how someone can say they love someone when they never even talk to each other before, but with time he learns to not think too much about it and just accepts them gratefully. In the sea of reds and whites, the yellow of sunflowers really does stand out. He takes out the small baby blue card out of the envelope that came with the sunflowers and reads the sentence inside.

 _Thank you for the new beginning_ , it says this time. Lu Han arches his eyebrows in question but a smile makes its way to his lips nonetheless. He’s always liked the cards that come with the sunflowers, it’s not filled with love confessions or such, but a simple sentence at a time that Lu Han thinks hold a unique beauty and charm on its own; even though Lu Han can understand little to nothing of the truth that the sender intends to convey through those words. He always keeps the cards and puts it into a small gift box he has in his room and rereads them when he has the time.

Yixing casually takes a seat beside Lu Han’s spot and points his chin towards the flowers. “What would you do about them?”

Lu Han shrugs. “Take them home.” As per usual, he usually puts the flowers in a box (or more in quite a few occasions, especially when he performs with more audience) and when he’s not being driven home like today, he will take the box by himself. Fortunately, on smaller performances like tonight’s, he only has to take a smaller box than usual. Plus, flowers don’t weight much. Nothing he can’t handle. 

“And then throw them away?”

Lu Han widens his eyes. “No, that’s rude!”

“So do you tend to them daily or something?”

“Um, no.”

“You just let them wither and die.”

“Um…”

Yixing whistles. “That’s actually crueler, don’t you think?” There’s a distant look in his eyes. “Giving them hope by bringing them home only to let them be and wait for their inevitable death.”

Lu Han sighs. “Well, I feel bad if I just throw them away. It’s as if I’m breaking hearts with each flower or something.”

“You let them die in the end anyway.”

“At least I don’t have to do it myself,” Lu Han murmurs.

Sehun, to his surprise, is waiting for him outside the building. Lu Han usually leaves close to the last so he doesn’t have to deal with the crowds willing to see him off-stage when he’s going home by himself. The time reads 10:10 by the time he exits the building, the fan gifts box in his arms, violin case slung carefully on his shoulders.

Sehun looks handsome with his casual outfit tonight, his hair tousled slightly by the wind. There’s no Jongin in sight, and for some unknown reason Lu Han feels relieved with the fact. Sehun offers him a grin and a familiar small carton of milk, instead of the traditional bouquet of flowers. Lu Han raises his eyebrows but takes it anyway after putting the box down. He notices that it’s not the strawberry flavor but chocolate. “Thank you,” Lu Han says softly. “Thank you for coming.”

“What is that?” Sehun asks curiously, eyeing the box. Lu Han shrugs. “Flowers,” he answers simply.

“I see, must be from all those raging fangirls of yours. Some of them were here before they gave up and went home, thinking you already did…” Sehun grins. “You were _awesome_ , by the way. I mean, I _knew_ you’re awesome, but it’s the first time I saw you play with the other guys live, so. Yeah, I hope you like chocolate? They ran out of the usual strawberry,” he finishes sheepishly.

Lu Han blinks. “I do,” he says and lets his gaze fall on the light brown carton milk. “I do,” Lu Han repeats sincerely and starts drinking the milk. He empties it in one go. He realizes he _is_ actually hungry…

Sehun beams. “Good, then. Are you going straightly home?”

“Yeah, it’s quite late already,” Lu Han chuckles and throws the empty carton inside a nearby trashcan. He gazes up at the sky and blinks. “Oh wow — the moon is beautiful tonight.” Lu Han says in awe before shifting his attention back to the younger male. “It reminds me of—” He stops. There’s the slightest tinge of red on his cheeks  “Are you going home after this?” He coughs, returning the question, after a brief moment of silence.

Sehun raises an eyebrow but then decides to let it slide with a shrug. “I guess. Do you have a ride? Do you want me to help you with that box?”

“No, it’s alright, I’m taking the bus…” he glances at his wristwatch and his eyes go wide. “Shit, I gotta hurry. The last bus is leaving in five minutes — I’m sorry, I’ll see you again okay?”

Sehun nods, a smile on his lips. “Okay. I’ll see you again.”

Lu Han readjusts the violin case straps on his shoulders and takes the box back in his arms. He nods at Sehun and starts striding fast to catch the last bus.

When Lu Han is out of his sight, Sehun is still standing there. He gazes up to the sky, a smile making its way back to his lips.

The crescent moon is indeed beautiful tonight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They meet quite a few times after that. Lu Han would _coincidentally_ meet Sehun at the sports field on his way home and some days Sehun would _coincidentally_ pass the music club’s room when Lu Han’s practicing. After a few _I’ll see you again_ s later, they don’t even make excuses anymore and simply be _there_.

Lu Han enjoys the younger’s company and secretly wishes that the other male feels the same too. They have worked out their awkwardness around each other as the days pass, much to Lu Han’s relief. Somewhere along the way Lu Han also learns an important fact: although Sehun is very polite to basically everyone and seems like a perfect gentleman in the making, when you get to know him better, you will find a big dork underneath all those admirable traits. Another plus factor is that Lu Han hasn’t been getting much headaches compared to before he starts hanging out with Sehun. Oh well, maybe it’s all due to stress after all.

Lu Han would usually wait for Sehun at the finish line, reading his notes or music sheets, with a tall blue bottle of water for Sehun when he finishes. Sehun would grin at him and say his thanks as Lu Han hands him the bottle; immediately gulping down the water empty. Lu Han would simply smile in return as he watches Sehun’s mouth, wet with water, his adam apple moving up and down as the runner gulps down the water. Knowing Sehun has taught Lu Han many things — one of them being the art of staring without getting caught, because he kind of like watching Sehun. A lot. God knows what Sehun would say if he got caught. Lu Han doesn’t want to think about that and prays the day would never come. 

One day, Sehun asks him to teach him how to play the violin. He says that he thinks he have a secret talent to be a violinist after watching Lu Han play, because it _looks_ pretty easy. So Lu Han hands him one of the school’s violins and starts teaching him the basics after the club’s practice.

To begin, Lu Han doesn’t let Sehun to touch the bow yet and tells the younger to simply hold the violin, which is met with Sehun’s snort because _of course I can hold the violin properly first try!_. It ultimately ends with him failing and Lu Han laughing at him mercilessly. When he finally can hold the violin properly, Sehun starts with the fingerboard and makes a face when he sees the fretless surface. He ends up missing the first finger position for the second most of the time.

Lu Han lets Sehun play with the bow the second time. He applies some rosin on the bow’s hair carefully with Sehun watching him in interest. “Why are you rubbing a candy on it?”

Lu Han smiles wryly as he hands the bow to him. “It’s called a rosin. It is _not_ a candy and _do not touch the hair_ ,” he warns when Sehun is about to touch the bow’s hair. Sehun pouts and wraps his fingers around the wood. Lu Han hums in approval and elaborates, “Basically if you don’t have rosin applied on the hair, no sound will come out no matter how hard you bow.”

Sehun’s mouth forms an “o” as he nods. “Okay,” he says and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to unleash the violin god in me, so watch out for that. You’ll probably be blinded by my awesomeness.”

Lu Han rolls his eyes but says nothing. Sehun then clears his throat and bows on the E string tentatively. It produces a horrible, high-pitched squeak that make both of them wince.

“You should have started on D or A first,” Lu Han snickers. “I thought the _violin god_ in you knew E was very delicate.”

“But I _was_ very gentle,” Sehun mumbles.

“Well, be _gentler_ ,” Lu Han says and is met again with Sehun’s pout. Seriously, Sehun should be banned from pouting because it makes him even more adorable.

Wait, what.

Lu Han ends up teaching him how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars and later, when Sehun gets bored playing the same song over and over, Lu Han teaches him Over the Rainbow. They’re still terribly out of tune, but Sehun is all pleased with himself regardless. He’s saying how he would boast of being Lu Han’s pupil in the future and Lu Han replies with _please no because it will only destroy my remarkable reputation_.

 _Life is good_ , Lu Han thinks as he watches Sehun struggle playing Over the Rainbow. A smile blooms on his lips. _It really is_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun has been a permanent routine to Lu Han performances since that Mozart Tribute night. He would sit there, sometimes with Jongin beside him — although Jongin would then disappear when Lu Han meets Sehun at the end of the day outside the building; a moonlit smile on his lips, two boxes of strawberry milk with 8gr fat in hand. It always feels nice to have someone familiar in the audience, after all.

With that new routine, he finds his other “routine” lessens in frequency. And the pain. He would still get headaches sometimes, although rarely now, and the pain is much lesser.

He still gets the sunflowers bouquets, of course, which is his another permanent routine. He wonders if the sender’s ever going to stop. He wonders if he could do something for them, to know that he really does appreciate the bouquets and the cards, and then he thinks better of it.

The newest card he got was written with _fond memories_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun watches calmly for once as Lu Han practices the repertoire that the latter would be recording later in the day for the upcoming competition. It sounds sad yet beautiful; and although Sehun has no idea what the piece is called, this has been his most favorite piece to listen to yet. Sehun thinks it’s probably Beethoven or Mozart’s 1238th violin concerto or something.

When Lu Han finishes, Sehun gives him enthusiastic claps and awed whistles. Although Sehun has watched Lu Han performs his violin skills a few times by now, on and off-stage, Lu Han never seems to stop to amaze him. He always has something new to show and when Sehun thinks the violinist can’t be any better than this, Lu Han comes again and proves him otherwise.

Lu Han gives him a smug smile and proceeds to put the violin back to its case. “I have to go to the Philharmonic Orchestra, so I’m afraid I can’t stay longer today.”

Sehun frowns. “Philhar-what?”

“Philharmonic.”

“Phil’s grandmother?”

Lu Han huffs. Count on Sehun to mishear Philharmonic for Phil’s _harmoni_. “Forget it. The point is that I have to go sooner.”

“Okay.” Sehun says. He blinks. “I really like that song.”

Lu Han stares at him, puzzled. “What song?”

“The one you just played.”

“It’s not a _song_ , Sehun,” Lu Han sighs. “It’s Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise.”

“Wow, it doesn’t have any number on the title!” Sehun says, visibly impressed.

Lu Han rolls his eyes. “Its official name is Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise Op. 34 No. 14.”

Sehun makes a face. Lu Han chuckles and starts packing his things. “I’m glad you liked it, though. I’m going to use this piece for the competition and in fact, now I’m going to the Orchestra to ask some advice from my mentor on this particular piece,” he pauses and averts his gaze to the younger male, eyebrows raised. “What are _you_ doing after this?”

Sehun shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe run some laps or go bother Jongin.”

 _Kim Jongin_. “You should run some laps,” Lu Han say immediately without thinking. He mentally smacks his head. He doesn’t want to sound like he prefers Sehun not to spend more time with the other male.

Sehun taps his chin thoughtfully, oblivious to Lu Han’s thought. “Hmm. Should I?”

“You _do_ have a competition coming up,” Lu Han shrugs. “I’m feeling like you’ve been practicing to enter a violin competition more than a running competition,” he smirks.

Sehun’s eyes widened, as if he’d only realized that. “Huh. You’re right,” he says and pauses. “I guess being able to play Over the Rainbow or Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars awesomely like I do won’t really help me much on winning a running competition,” Lu Han rolls his eys at this and Sehun suddenly looks like he’s just got the best idea in the world. “Oh my God, Lu Han, we totally should win together! I winning the running competition and you the violin. It will be _so_ awesome. In fact, let’s make a promise here and now!”

Lu Han raises his eyebrows, a little taken aback at Sehun’s sudden excitement. “What?”

“Repeat after me! I, Lu Han, solemnly swear,” Sehun insists, raising a hand, chest buffed.

“Sehun, this is _ridiculous_ — ”

“Repeat!”

Lu Han sighs. Sehun can be such a child sometimes. “You’re such a child, Sehun,” he decides to voice it out and is meet with Sehun staring hopefully at him, his stance intanct. Lu Han takes a good look at the surrounding, making sure that no one else can see them, takes a deep breath and raises his own hand. “I, Lu Han, solemnly swear,” he finally obliges half-heartedly.

“that I will win the competition,”

“that I will win the competition,”

“and if I don’t,”

“ _Sehun_ ,”

“and if I don’t!” Sehun says louder as puts a finger on Lu Han’s lips, effectively silencing the older male. Silence dawns upon them abruptly and for a split second there Lu Han swears Sehun is leaning closer to him, face so close that Lu Han can count the younger’s long eyelashes, and oh God, Sehun _is_ beautiful and their lips are merely a few inches away —

And Sehun backs away almost immediately, as if the contact scorched his skin, his back turned. All Lu Han can hear at the moment are loud, erratic heartbeats, and if he listens closer, he’d know that those don’t come from one heart but two.

No one speaks for what feels like an eternity but no one makes the move to leave either. Lu Han gulps down his nervousness and decides to man up. “Sehun,” the name ends up to come out as a mere whisper.

“I know you can win.” Sehun says abruptly, still not facing Lu Han. “You _will_ win.”

“Sehun…”

“And I will, too.” Sehun adds, a hint of confidence back in his voice. He turns around to face Lu Han again, a smile now adorning his handsome face. “It’s a promise, okay?”

Lu Han, unable to speak, simply nods.

“Cross my heart,” Sehun says softly as he makes the motion. Lu Han feels heat creeping on his cheeks. This feels kind of embarrassing, if he’s being truthful to himself, but the smile playing on Sehun’s lips makes it’s all worth it.

“I’m sorry, I…” Sehun trails off. Lu Han looks at him in the eyes and finds a mixture of emotions he can’t quite decipher in those warm brown eyes. Sehun swallows the words he’s going to say and instead he nods and turns on his heels to leave.

Lu Han stands there in silence, his hand slowly motions for his heart.

 _Cross my heart_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next baby blue card he gets along with the bouquet of sunflowers is filled with a simple question mark.

“Another one, huh?”

Lu Han jumps from his seat and looks up, a scowl on his face. He finds Yixing smiling smugly and Zitao looking at the bouquet curiously beside him. Lu Han sighs but doesn’t say anything and instead brings his attention back to the enigmatic card. The previous ones had been sentences, one at a time, so this simple question mark is quite baffling to Lu Han.

“A question mark? What does that even mean?” Zitao says in Chinese, a frown on his face.

“A question mark means a question mark, Zitao,” Yixing says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. _Duh_. “The bouquet of sunflowers, on the other hand…”

Lu Han averts his gaze to the pianist, eyebrows arched. “What about it?”

“Do you even know what sunflowers mean, Lu Han?”

“Sunflowers mean, well, sunflowers?” Lu Han tries.

“No,” Yixing rolls his eyes. “It means unrequited love. Not many of your fangirls know their place like this one… At least this one know you’d never be able to return her feelings for you.”

“I don’t even know any of them so how could I fall in love with them,” Lu Han mumbles as he puts the bouquet into a box.

All of sudden, that moment, Lu Han feels the world shakes beneath his feet and he stumbles forward; he’d certainly fall to the ground if it’s not for Zitao who immediately holds him back. Lu Han compels his eyes shut, silently waiting for the tremor to cease. His head is pounding painfully.

“Lu Han? Are you alright?” Zitao asks concernedly. Yixing is immediately in front of him, making him stand back straight, hands on the older’s arms carefully.

Lu Han slowly opens his eyes. His head is pounding like hell that he feels tears on the corner of his eyes. “Earthquake…?” He asks weakly. Yixing gives him a questioning look before shaking his head.

“It’s… spinning,” Lu Han breathes shakily and lets himself fall on the floor, head cradled in his arms, body curling into a fetal position. “Make it… stop,” he whimpers and reaches out to hold onto something, _anything_ , because now he feels like falling and he can hear Yixing and Zitao calling his name but he can’t see, he can’t —

And then it is all black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lu Han wakes up to a contrasting white compared to the pitch black darkness he’d fallen into. He blinks his eyes slowly, trying to regain his focus. He’s met with a ceiling of white and he can’t say he didn’t expect this. The smell of disinfectant is in the air, confirming his assumption that he’s at a hospital even further. He eventually takes in his surrounding and finds his mother asleep on a chair beside his bed, wrinkled hands holding his, head rested on the edge of his bed. Lu Han feels his eyes soften at the sight, a small smile making its way on his lips. _Mother…_

He squeezes her hand gently and she slowly opens her eyes. In a moment those dark-brown eyes so much like his own are staring at him and the next, tears are streaming down their corners. Lu Han soon finds himself in her careful embrace, her tears immediately soaking the fabric of his baby blue hospital shirt.

“Mom,” Lu Han murmurs, voice slightly hoarse from disuse. “I’m okay,” Lu Han says; _hopes_. He isn’t so sure about his condition. Was it really an earthquake? Was he in such shock that he just passed out like that? Is an earthquake even supposed to _feel_ like that? He wouldn’t know, he’d never felt one before. The sound of the time beating somewhere in the room produces another question:  how long had he been out?

Too many questions, too little answers.

“Mom…?” Lu Han tries again, rubbing circles gently on her trembling back. “Are Yixing and Zitao okay? The earthquake didn’t hurt them, did it?” He asks worriedly.

Slowly, his mother breaks the hug and gazes upon her only son, wiping her tears away. “Oh sweetheart…” she sniffles, a trembling smile on her lips. “There’s no earthquake; they are okay.”

“No earthquake…?” Lu Han asks, confusion clear in his voice. _Then what was it?_ “What happened, mom?” he finally inquiries.

“Sweetheart…” She compels her eyes shut, as if the next words she’s going to say are hurting her. Lu Han’s heart breaks a little at the sight. What could possibly happen to him that makes his mother suffer so much only to say that? A moment later she flutters her eyes back open, fresh tears falling from the corners of her eyes; a melancholy smile on her lips. “Sweetheart… there’s… there’s a tumor in your brain,” she chokes out and breaks down again, hands holding Lu Han’s tight, head hung low as she sobs.

“That’s…” He croaks, unable to finish with a whirlwind of thoughts invading his mind all at once. _That’s not supposed to happen, that only happens in movies, that’s impossible, that’s_ —

 _That’s_ —

“Oh my God,” He whispers when it has finally registered in his mind that it _is_ happening. “A tumor?”

His mother finally looks up and nods slowly, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Yes, sweetheart, it’s a benign tumor so it isn’t as dangerous as the malignant one, but,” she chokes, “there’s always a possibility if you keep it in. We’ll take it out as soon as possible, okay?”

_Take it out… of my… brain…_

“Mom,” Lu Han whispers as something finally dawns on him. “If I take it out, will I still be able to play the violin?”

 

 

_Cross my heart._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lu Han is nowhere in sight for the next full week.

Sehun has been waiting every single day by in the music room, hoping that Lu Han would magically appear out of nowhere; a soft smile on his lips, violin case slung over his shoulder.

Lu Han has become a part of his routine and the thought of not being able to see him again terrifies him.

He’s heard the rumors.

It’s not like he doesn’t know. It’s more difficult _not_ to know. He _is_ Lu Han after all.

But still, he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And

Waits

.

.

.

“Sehun.”

Sehun frowns. The voice sounds so familiar…

“Oh Sehun… wake up.”

Sehun opens his eyes and immediately sits up, knocking his head on another’s; hard. “Ow,” he groans as he rubs the sore spot on his forehead. “What the hell.”

“You sure have a hard head,” the other’s voice grunts.

Sehun blinks and looks up. “Yixing?”

“Glad you didn’t get an amnesia,” Yixing rolls his eyes. “What are you doing here so late, Sehun?”

Sehun frowns. “It’s not late, it’s only—” he glances at the clock hung on the wall above the door and falters. “ _Six_. Oh my God. I must have fallen asleep.”

Yixing sighs and starts taking some music sheets on a nearby desk then putting them into his dark-brown satchel. “Obviously, you did. Now, I need you to get out so I can lock the room.”

Sehun starts gathering his things and heads out, Yixing following behind him. The music room locked with a click and Sehun finds himself facing a weary-looking Yixing.

“Yixing…” Sehun starts tentatively. “Do you happen to hear anything about Lu Han lately?”

Yixing looks pensive for a moment before he stares at the taller boy questioningly. “Nothing you haven’t heard about, I’m sure. Why?”

Sehun bites his lip and shakes his head. “Nothing… nothing.”

At that Yixing smiles slightly, as if something has just dawned on him. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. Rumors tend to be exaggerated, and I’m sure those rumors about Lu Han are no exception. He’s probably just exhausted and is now resting at home.”

“You sure?”

Yixing smiles and starts walking. Sehun follows, easily matching Yixing’s shorter strides. “Yes, Sehun. I’ve known him for _years_. There’s one time when this shady gossip magazine reported that Lu Han had died in a car accident somewhere in Beijing. I panicked and immediately went to his house only to find him rolling around on his bed whining about being hungry, here in Seoul.” He chuckles. “Don’t worry too much, Sehun. Think about something else — Don’t you have a competition to win soon?”

Sehun nods, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah… you’re right.” He pauses. “Thank you, Yixing.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sehun hears him first.

The bittersweet melody of the Vocalise, playing softly behind the old wooden door of the music room he’s been frequenting. He doesn’t dare to hope; but the sound is too familiar, too inviting.

But he opens the door anyway.

Behind the closed door, by the windowsill, Lu Han is standing with a perfect posture; his left fingers dancing along his precious violin’s fingerboard skillfully, his right hand guiding the bow on the strings in precise motion. His rather pale face looks serene, eyes shut.

It is an enthralling sight.

Sehun stands there in the doorway, eyes widened. It’s as if the time is frozen, except for the playing violinist.

When it comes to a stop, it’s almost as if the oxygen has been sucked out of his lungs. Sehun blinks and takes a hesitant, shaky fill of oxygen.

Lu Han puts the violin down as he slowly opens his eyes.

A short, sharp intake of breath.

A pair of widened, dark-brown doe-like eyes.

An abrupt realization.

“Sehun…?” the name trots out hesitantly from the older’s mouth.

Sehun stays still, unmoving, mum.

 “How long have you —” Lu Han pauses, then shakes his head slightly. “Did you… “ he hesitates. “Did you like it?”

Sehun finally snaps out of his reverie when Lu Han is somehow standing in front of him, looking slightly puzzled and oddly hopeful. The violinist is reaching out his hand to his forehead, but he stops him, catching the older’s wrist midway.

Lu han has got much skinnier.

“Lu Han…” Sehun frowns. “Where have you been?” He grips on the wrist a little tighter. “Haven’t you been eating?”

Lu Han, visibly surprised, pulls his hand away from Sehun’s hold and looks away. “I’ve been… away.” He answers quietly. “I’ve been eating fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Lu Han,” Sehun sighs. “I… This past week… Don’t you know that I…” He chokes out, voice trembling slightly. “Don’t do this to me,” he finishes quietly.

And Sehun doesn’t know what come to him, really, why he suddenly bursts into tears in front of Lu Han. He really isn’t sure, but when he feels himself being pulled into a warm embrace, there in Lu Han arms, he decides the _why_ s doesn’t really matter anymore.

For now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun finishes crying ten minutes later. Lu Han has been holding him the entire time, soothing the younger’s back gently, mumbling apologizes.

Sehun pulls away shakily, rubbing his eyes sloppily. “I’m, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, words quivering. “God, what got into me hahaha, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bawled so suddenly like that,” he chuckles, shaking his head. There’s sincerity in those red-rimmed dark-brown eyes.

Lu Han gives him a small smile. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. For suddenly disappearing and not telling you anything.”

“It’s okay…” Sehun exhales shakily. He then looks up, eyes tentatively gazing at the older’s. “Are _you_ okay? I… I’ve heard the rumors, and…” Sehun pauses, gauging Lu Han’s reaction. Lu Han’s face, much to his dismay, is not giving anything away. “They’re not true, are they?”

Lu Han looks pensive for a moment before breaking into, to Sehun’s surprise, a grin. “Are they telling people that I’ve died, _again_?” Lu Han chuckles, shaking his head. “What is it this time, did I die because of a car accident? Did I die of a terminal illness? Did I jump off of a building?”

Sehun frowns. He doesn’t find the idea of Lu Han dying funny at the slightest. “Lu Han…”

“Oh, maybe they’ve got more creative this time around. _Finally_. Perhaps I died choking on a _bao_ or something. Or because of a strawberry milk overdose. Maybe because I accidentaly ate one of my rosins, or —“ Lu Han choked on the last word as he feels his eyes begin to sting.

“Lu Han…” Sehun repeats as he reaches out his hands to gently touch the violinist’s shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not! They have no fucking right — they have no fucking right to,” Lu Han trembles. “to kill _me_ off whenever they please just for fucking _money_ ,” he takes a shaky breath. “Imagine how much they’re making. Imagine how much _more_ they would be making if it’s actually true. In fact, I might feed a lot of people by dying!”

“Lu Han, stop it,” Sehun’s voice shakes slightly with a yet to be identified emotion. It feels almost like anger. “It’s okay. You _are_ okay. They can’t hurt you. You are here, now.”

_And I’m not letting you go._

Sehun blinks. _What was that?_

Lu Han doesn’t reply immediately. It’s as if he’s too stunned by Sehun’s words to say anything and Sehun prays that he didn’t accidentally say his last thought out loud.

Then comes a soft chuckle.

Sehun feels a small, tentative smile strecthing on his own lips.

“Sehun… Tell me,” Lu Han starts quietly. “How good are you at keeping secrets?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The letter is given to Lu Han a week before his competition starts and four days before Sehun’s.

Lu Han heads to his room directly after he gets home from another check-up at the hospital, the pristine white envelope wrinkled slightly as he holds onto it a little bit too hard.

He rips the edge none too gently as soon as he sits on his bed, legs crossed, a frown on his face, and starts reading the letter. It contains the details on his upcoming surgery, such as the things he should do before and after the surgery. The side-effects that might arise. The team that would do the surgery. The fees. The estimated recovery period. The date.

It would be two days after the violin competition’s finale.

Lu Han takes a deep breath, took his cellphone from his jeans’ pocket, and dialed Sehun’s number.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, when Lu Han enters the music room, there is a beautiful, familiar bouquet of sunflowers sitting on the chair he usually uses. He looks around the room and the empty hallway on instinct, half hoping that he would finally be able to see the enigmatic sender. When he finds no one, he walks to the chair and searches for that particular small baby-blue envelope. When he does find it, a smile blooming on his lips, he begins reading the content.

This time, a simple _:)_ is staring back at him.

“Why are you smiling like that? It’s kinda creepy.”

Lu Han whips his head toward the entrance and finds Sehun grinning at him, two boxes of strawberry milk in hand. Lu Han couldn’t help the blush that has begun adorning his cheeks and immediately looks away, putting the card back inside the envelope in a haste and put it into his backpack. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, _nothing_ wouldn’t make you smile creepily like that, would it?” Sehun teases as he walks in, putting his backpack on one of the chairs, and offers one of the milk boxes to the other male. “Here.”

Lu Han takes the milk with a pout and mumbles his thanks.

“Oh? Is it from one of your fans?” Sehun asks as he notices the sunflowers bouquet.

“Ye… yes, it is.” Lu Han stutters.

Sehun, to Lu Han’s surprise, merely smiles as a response. There’s no mischief. It’s one of those rare, Oh Sehun’s sincere smiles. Sehun then averts his gaze to the older male, a concerned look now visible on his face. “Are you alright? I mean, yesterday… Are you feeling better?”

Lu Han mirrors Sehun’s earlier smile. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” he says sincerely. “And it’s hard not feeling better after hearing your attempt at singing _Baby_ on the phone yesterday,” he grins.

Sehun blushes slightly at the memory and pouts. “But I did that to cheer you up! It worked in the end, didn’t it!"

Lu Han laughs. “It does. Thank you,” he smiles. “Really.”

Sehun merely grins and walks toward the window. There are some of his classmates doing sports at the field. After mindlessly scanning the area, his mouth forms an o. “Oh wow, it’s Jongin! I thought he’s leaving early today…”

Lu Han, interest piqued, averts his gaze to the window. Jongin _is_ there, walking along the sideline toward the exit. In his arms are —

“Sehun,” Lu Han hears himself asking. “Why is Jongin holding bouquets of flowers?”

It takes Sehun a few seconds longer to respond. “Well, his family owns a nice flower shop downtown...” he falters. His eyes widen when he sees Lu Han suddenly stands up and strides out of the room. “He — hey, Lu Han! Wait! Where are you going?!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s all Lu Han needed to hear.

Now, he needs to _run_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jongin is visibly startled when he hears someone shouting his name. So he stops in his track and turns around. When he finds out that it’s Lu Han, he widens his eyes even more. When he sees Sehun running behind the older male, a slight frown immediately makes its way to his face. “Umm… Yes?”

“Kim Jongin… isn’t it?” Lu Han smiles, panting slightly. “I believe we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Lu Han,” he offers his hand. Jongin stares blankly at the offered hand momentarily before tentatively shakes it.

“Um, yeah. I’m Jongin… nice to meet you.” Jongin offers an awkward smile and averts his gaze to his best friend, now panting beside Lu Han, hands on his knees. “Sehun? What happened?”

Sehun shoots up and glares at Lu Han. “ _I_ don’t know. You know, Lu Han, you should probably consider joining our team. You sure can run fast.”

Lu Han dismisses the statement, eyes still trained on the baffled dancer in front of him. “Are those yours?” he gestures toward the bouquets in the younger’s arms.

“What, these? Yes… I mean, no, I’m delivering these to people…” he falters, gaze still fixed on his best friend, as if he’s searching for an answer to what exactly is going on in Sehun’s expression. When he finds nothing satisfactory, he gives his full attention back to Lu Han. “What about it, Lu Han?”

“Did you also deliver the one in the music room? The sunflowers?”

Jongin looks rather taken aback by the question. Lu Han raises his eyebrows. “Well?”

“I…” he swiftly glances at Sehun, who looks as surprised. “What?”

“The sunflowers,” Lu Han repeats impatiently. “Did you deliver them? Have you been delivering those sunflowers bouquets?”

Jongin shakes his head, eyebrows knitted slightly. “No… No, Lu Han, it’s not me. Perhaps it’s from one of your fans? Maybe they bought the flowers from our shop…” he answers smoothly. “Or, a secret admirer, perhaps?”

Lu Han looks away promptly, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks. “I… I don’t know. That’s why I asked you to find out…”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, then,” Jongin says apologetically, although there’s a certain amusement in his tone. “Maybe Sehun would know…?”

Lu Han turns his attention to Sehun who is now frowning at his best friend.

“How the hell am I supposed to know,” Sehun scowls at Jongin, arms crossed. He then frowns at Lu Han. “For all I know you receive tons of those. Why are you so interested in that particular bouquet anyway? I’m sure it’s just from one of your fans, nothing special.”

Lu Han opens his mouth and for a moment there he looks like he’s about to say something, before closing it again, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Just… Never mind.” Lu Han finally sighs. He turns his attention to Jongin. “I’m terribly sorry for taking your time, Jongin. I think it’s best for me to get going now,”  Lu Han bows slightly, turns on his heels and heads back to the music room to gather his things without a second glance. Sehun gives Jongin something akin to an exasperated look before quickly following Lu Han’s path.

“Nothing special, huh.” Jongin snickers, shaking his head, and starts heading to the addresses assigned to him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Time ticks away and before they know it, it’s already the day of Sehun’s competition.

To say that Sehun is nervous is a gross understatement.

 _I’ll wait for you by the finish line_.

Lu Han’s words ring in his mind. Sehun scans the cheering audience for a sight of the violinist but to no avail.

Lu Han was admitted to the hospital again due to exhaustion and stress a day previously and he is to stay in until the violin competition. Sehun has acknowledged the high probability that Lu Han wouldn’t be able to come to his competition but he can’t help but feeling something missing.

 But he can’t let that get in the way, now. After all, he has promised that he would win.

“To your positions!”

Sehun takes one last glance to the cheering audience. Still no luck.

“Ready!”

Sehun takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“Steady!”

He gets into the position and flutters his eyes open.

“Go!”

And win he _will_.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lu Han cracks one eye open. He compels his eyes shut as they’re exposed to the harshness of the light hovering above him. Taking a deep breath, he turns his face to the left, towards the window. He flutters his eyes open and finds that the curtain is already drawn. He must have been asleep for too long.

As he regains his full consciousness, he can feel a small weight on his unclenched hand. He shifts his gaze towards his right hand and finds an unfamiliar medal made of gold there. Frowning a little, he takes the medal closer and squints to see what’s encarved on it. The words are a plain evidence of a promise fulfilled that brings a smile on his lips.

 

 

_Oh Sehun_

_South Korea Track Running National Champion 2015_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Looking good, Mr. Soon-to-be-Winner.”

Lu Han looks up from his prized violin and smiles. “Hello, Sehun. Congrats on winning the competition.”

Sehun grins. “Thanks. I’ve fulfilled my promise, so you better fulfill yours.”

“I’ll try my best to.” Lu Han chuckles. He looks up to the ceiling of the hospital room he’s been using, mind wandering. It’s finally the day of the competition that will be held  in a few rounds in the span of a week to the finale. It would be no doubt a tiring and yet exciting process, but Lu Han is ready. Even though he’s not in his best condition, he will give it his all. The possibility of this being his last competition in a while or even, God forbids, _ever_ , makes him even more determined to win.

Then suddenly, he remembers something. He turns his attention to his backpack and produces Sehun’s shiny gold medal out of it. “By the way, here. Thanks for lending it to me, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there.” He apologizes, offering the medal back to its owner.

Sehun takes it wordlessly, inspecting it for a moment before shifting his gaze to the violinist again. A shy smile on his lips, he steps forward to shorten the distance between them. Lu Han widens his eyes in surprise as Sehun put the medal on Lu Han like a necklace, the gold shining proudly on the older male. The younger takes a step back, smile unwavering. “You’re ready now.”

“Lu Han, it’s time.”

Lu Han and Sehun turn their attention to Lu Han’s mother, a warm smile on her lips. Lu Han returns her smile and nods, then starts packing his violin in its case carefully.

“I’ll see you at the venue. Good luck.” Sehun smiles, giving Lu Han’s had a reassuring squeeze.

Lu Han gulps down his nervousness and tries to return the smile. “Yeah,” he nods. “I’ll see you later, Sehun.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After tiring days and hours of One Caprice from Op. 1 of Paganini, Debussy Sonata for violin and piano, Beethoven’s Trio in E-flat major Op. 1 No 1, Lu Han finds himself merely a few hours away from the finale. Sibelius Concerto in D minor will be his final piece; his last ultimate weapon to beat the other two finalists: Arthur Kirkland from United Kingdom and Roderich Edelstein from Austria.

Just another step away.

He waits anxiously at the backstage as the other two perform. Just his luck, he’s been assigned to perform last. Arthur has performed perfectly and beautifully with his own quirks, and now so far Roderich has also been performing very well, he has to admit. He has watched them perform several times before and their skilled techniques and interpretations, albeit different, both hold their own personal and unique quality. He has encountered both of them in competitions before, with Lu Han beating Arthur two out of four and him beating Roderich one out of two. They are indeed superb violinists, but Lu Han isn’t someone who can be taken easily, either.

Suddenly, the audience breaks into roaring applause and Lu Han knows that it’s going to be his turn very, very soon.

He takes his violin and bow in his hands, closes his eyes, and prays.

When he is finally called to perform, he throws away his fears and steps to the much-awaited stage.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun stands on his feet and claps enthusiasticly as Lu Han finally enters the stage for the finale, deliberately ignoring the glares sent his way from fellow audience members. From what he's heard, Lu Han is going to perform a rather magnificent piece that everyone has been anticipating. He sits back after Lu Han is finally on his assigned position, grinning ear to ear. Lu Han looks amazing as always, in his opinion; a little nervous and exhausted, yes, but still amazing nevertheless.

“Dude, you totally need to calm down.”

Sehun turns to his side and finds an annoyed American, the same person that went hyper when that Arthur guy was performing. Sehun snorts but doesn’t reply because his doesn’t think his English is good enough to retort and decides to avert his attention back to the stage.

A moment of silence elapses and then it finally begins.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first movement went fairly smoothly. Lu Han thanks the heavens mentally as he begins the second movement. He feels worse as the time goes on, though. He’s beginning to feel his head pounding and his vision is starting to blur. He clenches his eyes shut at the twilight of the second movement and tries his best to continue; his fingers dancing mournfully on the fingerboard on auto-pilot, the bow moving back and forth slowly over the trembling strings.

He takes a deep breath at the dawn of the third and final movement and begins the sharp, relentless notes precisely. He opens his eyes as the poundings in his head starting to become unbearable and warm tears start pooling on the corners of his eyes.

 _No_ , he thinks as he feels his consciousness slipping away. _Just a little bit more_ —

 _This is it. The last of ascending slur-separate sixteenth notes_ —

Lu Han repositions the bow on the strings for the final notes, tears finally falling from the corners of his eyes, and compels his eyes shut.

 

 

 

 

_Cross my heart._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lu Han opens his eyes to harsh lighting of a painfully familiar room. He blinks and tries to readjust his vision. He tries to move his hand to reach to something,  _anything_ , but he can only barely move his pinky. His face is covered by oxygen mask and as he gradually regains his senses, he can to hear the sound of life-supporting machines surrounding him.  
  
 _What happened…_  
  
He flutters his eyes back shut as his head begins pounding again. After the pain finally subdues, he tries to untangle the strings of his memories. He vaguely remembers a sunflower field, blue skies, boxes of strawberry milk, his dear, precious violin, and…  
  
And…  
  
 _The competition._  
  
 _Oh Sehun._  
  
Scenes of memories finally come back to him and it  _hurts_. It hurts so, so _much_.  
  
But he has to go, he has to go and win that competition, he has to keep his promise, he has to he has to  _he has to —_  
  
“He’s awake! Oh God, someone call the doctor!”  
  
Lu Han can feel hot tears falling on his cheeks as a nurse comes into his slightly blurred vision.  
  
“It’s okay,” the nurse says softly, carefully squeezing his cold hand. “You’re okay now.”  
  
Lu Han wants to scream that _no, it’s not gonna be okay, I can’t speak and I can’t move anything how could I be okay_ —  
  
It’s the last thing he remembers before he drifts back to nothing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next time Lu Han awakes, he can feel warmth encircling his wrist. It soothes his initial panic of being awake so suddenly and when his gaze finally falls upon his mother, sleeping on a chair beside his bed, head lolling forward in an awkward angle, he feels a bit calmer. He tries to move his hand but to no avail. He feels miserable that he practically can’t do anything, and the thought of not being able to play his violin again breaks his heart to pieces.  
  
And so he cries, silently mourning for the loss he’s experiencing. He doesn’t remember whether he even completed his performance at the finale, and to think that would be his last performance upsets him greatly.  
  
A few minutes later his mother finally wakes up and finds her son in tears. Her heart clenches at the sight and she gets to her feet, leaning in to kiss her son gently on the forehead, thumbs moving carefully to wipe the tears away. She wants to cry along with him but she knows better; she has to be strong for him. She swears she will do anything to make her son better, even if it would cost her her own life.  
  
The team of doctors and nurses attending to Lu Han come shortly after and Lu Han’s mother finds herself being shunned outside in the cold hallway. Looking up at the ceiling to prevent the tears from falling, she takes a long, shaky breath. When she shifts her gaze to the benches nearby, a small smile finds its way on her lips. There’s another boy sitting there, just like he has been for the past week. His dark-brown eyes are eyeing her carefully, and yet she still can see the fear in those eyes. The kind of fear she has learned as the fear of losing someone very dear, and it touches her how her son already has someone that cares deeply for him. The medal encarved with the boy’s name she saw Lu Han was wearing during the competition hanging loosely in his grasp.  
  
She quietly approaches him and she can see that the boy wants to say something,  _ask_  something, but afraid of what the answer might be.  
  
“He’ll be okay,” she says softly, both to herself and the boy. “He’ll be okay. He will.”  
  
The boy bites his lip and nods. The tears falling steadily on his cheeks speak louder than the words he’s too afraid to say. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lu Han learns how to speak again on the fifth day. He learns that he was unconscious for a week, and that the symptoms he’s experiencing is normal and that he would able to speak, walk, and do things again with therapy. He also learns that he didn’t manage to finish his performance in the last seconds and that eventually Arthur Kirkland emerged victorious.  
  
By the time Sehun is finally allowed to visit him a week later, Lu Han’s hospital room is already full of flowers and get-well-soon cards. With him suddenly collapsing like that in the finale of a prestigeous international competition, there’s no way for him or anyone to just cover it up and shrug it off as something trivial.  
  
“Hi,” the younger boy greets tentatively, pulling the chair beside Lu Han’s bed to sit. “How are you?”  
  
Lu Han offers a weak smile. “Good.” Then he frowns, as if trying to search for the right word. “Sorry.”  
  
Sehun raises his eyebrows, surprised. “For what?”  
  
“Lost. Competition.”  
  
“Lu Han,” Sehun sighs. “You were amazing. You _are_  amazing. It’s okay. You have won lots more before and you will win even more later, okay?”  
  
Lu Han shifts his gaze to his left hand sadly, trying to move his fingers with a little success.  
  
“Hey,” Sehun bites his lip, taking the older’s hand in his. “You’ll be fine. The doctors said so themselves. They will help you.  _I_  will help you,” a small smirk. “I  _am_  your best student, remember? I can teach you again, if you forget or something. I have the violin god in me after all.” A reasurring squeeze. “You’ll be able to play that what’s-his-name’s six-billionth concerto again in no time, I promise.”  
  
Lu Han chokes out a laughter and Sehun finds himself laughing along, hand never leaving the other’s.  
  
They may not know what will happen in the future; things could be getting worse or even better. But for now, having each other in that hospital room full of flowers, is honestly the best thing they think they could have asked for at the moment.  
  
Just the two of them, in their own small, make-shift garden of flowers, and nothing can feel more right.  
  
  
  
  
  
The next day, another bouquet of sunflowers comes. This time, on the card, the word  _resilience_  is written in a neat, cursive writing. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Six years later._

 

 

The audience breaks into a chorus of thunderous applause as Lu Han bows that last note on the string of his violin. The vibrato ends beautifully to his own personal satisfaction and he can’t help but smile to himself as he takes a deep breath, puts his violin off his chin, and gets a full view of the audience.  
  
It’s always breathtaking, the view. Of people in different colors and voices melding into one, all singing praises to him. He never wants it to end, to be honest, but of course at the end of the day he has to take his bow and the curtain has to be closed, leaving him with only his erratic heartbeats and the warm feeling of adrenaline and blood rushing through his veins.  
  
Lu Han gets back to the backstage quietly, nodding and bowing politely to the staffs and colleagues. He settles his precious violin down in its case in his waiting room and takes a look at the bouquets of flowers addressed to him. A crowd of yellow flowers tied as one in a beautiful bouquet immediately steals his attention in among a variant of red, pink, and white roses; a small, baby blue envelope with a matching colored card inside attached conveniently on the paper wrapper.  
  
Lu Han smiles to himself as he takes the cheerful-looking bouquet. He opens the envelope carefully, afraid of him accidentally tearing the fragile paper, takes out the card inside and begins reading the words written in a neat writing. It is the nth bouquet; Lu Han doesn’t remember exactly when he first started getting the sunflowers bouquets at the end of his performances.  
  
This time, a simple, imperative sentence is written.  
  
 _Look around._  
  
Lu Han knits his eyebrows in confusion but does as he’s told anyway, and immediately another bouquet of sunflowers with another blue envelope attached enters his vision. He looks up to find the boy he has loved all these years, the now Olympic gold medalist and his self-proclaimed best violin student, smiling shyly at him as he offers the bouquet to the violinist.  
  
Speechless, the recently graduated Juilliard violinist takes the bouquet into his arms and carefully takes out the baby blue card from inside the envelope.  
  
To his surprise, the card is blank.  
  
Raising his eyebrows, he stares at the other male questioningly. Smiling, the taller of the two takes the card and produces a pen from his pocket and starts writing.  
  
When he gives back the card to Lu Han, it is now filled with words written in an all too familiar handwriting he had been wondering to whom it belonged to for all these years.

 

_I love you. I have been for a long, long time._

_Will you go out with me?_

 

Fighting back the tears that starts pooling in his eyes, Lu Han takes back the card and pen, writes his answer, gives it back, and pulls him closer for a long-awaited kiss.

 

 

 

  _Yes._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Thank you so much for reading this piece! I started writing this in May 2014 and just managed to get it done today. This fic originally didn't end like this, and I will probably upload an alternate ending later. There's also a reason why I included Hetalia characters in this piece; I'd like to write a USUK spin-off later. And yes, the annoyed American cheering for Arthur in the finale was Alfred.
> 
> The strawberry milk thing was inspired by Sehun's diary entry.
> 
> Some of Sehun's faults when he's learning to play violin were based on my own personal experience when I started learning to play violin lol.
> 
> The sunflower reference was from the Greek myth.
> 
> When I was writing this, the Sibelius Violin Concerto I was listening to were the ones performed by Maxim Vengerov and Sarah Chang. The Vocalise in my mind was the one performed by Alexander Rybak.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I'm so sorry for the exo's overdose reference.~~
> 
>  
> 
> I would like to dedicate this to people battling tumors and/or cancer. This story is actually very loosely inspired by a dear friend of mine. I just would like to say that if there's a chance of survival, go for it.
> 
> Don't be afraid.
> 
> You can do it.


End file.
